


Horror and Supernatural Miraculous AUs

by caelestislux



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - Creatures & Monsters, Alternate Universe - Horror, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Angel Rose Lavillant, Angel/Demon Relationship, Demon Juleka Couffaine, F/F, F/M, Horror, Human/Monster Romance, Injury Recovery, M/M, Monster Hunters, Monsters, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Supernatural Elements, more relationships will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25393507
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelestislux/pseuds/caelestislux
Summary: I really like writing horror and supernatural/monster-based stories, so I thought I'd compile any Miraculous AUs involving these elements that I've written. Some may be more romance-based, while others will be just regular horror. A lot of them will be based around the members of the art club. Unless stated, each chapter will be a different AU and story.If anything possibly triggering will happen in one of the stories, it will be mentioned in the notes at the beginning of the chapter.
Relationships: Juleka Couffaine & Rose Lavillant, Juleka Couffaine/Rose Lavillant, Marc Anciel & Nathaniel Kurtzberg, Marc Anciel/Nathaniel Kurtzberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 23





	1. Angels and Demons (Julerose)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's admittedly not that horror or monster-based, I just thought the idea was fun

The first time Juleka saw the angel girl was in the park. 

It was a slightly stormy summer day, the rain beating down on the streets like sheets of metal and causing everyone to evacuate to their umbrellas and the dry protection of awnings. Juleka Couffaine herself was among those who was hurriedly getting to the next available dry spot—just because she was inhuman didn’t mean that she was cool with getting _soaked_ —but while she strode on, every curse under the sun running through her mind, a bright glow cut through the stormy, catching her off-guard. 

The glow didn’t seem to be something readily seen, as the other passerbys kept walking to their respective destinations without any cause for stopping, but Juleka herself could see it. And sure enough, when she strode a little closer, close enough to see the cause and determine that it was indeed outside of mortal sight, she could make out the source to be a girl.

A tiny girl, that was, barely reaching the lowest branches of the tree she stood under. Her dress, while cloaked by the white glow that enveloped her body, was a bright pink, while her hair was short and blond. And her eyes— _her striking eyes_ —were this beautiful blue that couldn’t be caused by nature. A light halo ringed her head as she hid under the canopy of the tree, lightly picking discarded blossoms from the ground with a smile plastered to her face. 

She was startlingly beautiful. 

And she was the only other inhuman that Juleka had seen since arriving in Paris.

But with her anxiety and sense of disbelonging, Juleka had no preparations to approach her and ask. How would a conversation like that even begin, anyway? How does one announce that they can see that that person they’re speaking to isn’t human? That they’re both otherworldly beings? 

Instead, Juleka hung her head and continued her walk, casting one last gaze to the girl behind her, hoping with her heart that despite her plan to keep moving, the girl would turn and look, maybe just brief eye contact, notice her and run over—

The girl didn’t look.

____

The first time Rose saw the demon girl was on the streets.

On her return from the library, Rose Lavillant kept up a brisk-yet-relaxed pace, letting her arms hang loose and her hair be swept with the light wind that danced its way down the streets. The sun was in full force, allowing the streets to be crowded once again with everyone from brief tourists to locals. Yet no one seemed to bother her as she made her way through the crowd. Maybe it was because she was just a teenager, maybe it was because she didn’t quite stand out to the point of notice, she wasn’t sure. But if she’d learned anything from humans, they tended to ignore what wasn’t important to them at the moment. 

But then, out of the corner of her eye, some sort of dark fog caught Rose’s attention. And when she stopped and fully turned, she was able to catch sight of the source, causing her to gasp in shock.

It was a girl, a tall girl who wore a dress of that dark fashion that humans called “goth” or “emo” and had long, silky hair that faded from black to a near-neon purple. Her eyes were red, deep red that wasn’t humanly possible, and she had a light layer of pink lipstick, but she was frowning. It was all Rose could do not to run over and ask if she was okay, to see what was wrong, to conjure any remaining supernatural gift she could manage in order to fix whatever needed to be fixed. But the fact remained that the girl in question was a demon, and a pretty one at that. Not a full demon, it seemed, but perhaps a descendant of one? 

And here Rose had thought she was the only inhuman in Paris!

The girl hadn’t noticed her yet, and Rose began to fear that she wouldn’t. That they would pass each other and never meet again, forced apart by the whims of the human world where time was of the essence. And sure enough, the girl ended up turning and walking—walking _away_ from Rose. 

The tiny girl let out a small groan in annoyance. If the girl had just _looked_ , she might’ve seen Rose’s own inhuman characteristics and joined her! Rose could’ve initiated the conversation, she knew that full well, but after enough social blunders of interacting with humans, she didn’t want to risk her chance with this girl. 

This _really pretty_ girl.

___

The next time Juleka saw the angel girl was at a nearby coffee shop.

After a night of writing and composing music with her brother—who thought that her tragic plight of not catching the angel girl’s attention was just _hilarious_ —she was in serious need of getting a cup of coffee. And there was a coffee shop not too far away where she could sit inside and read, or maybe write down some new song lyrics if she were so inclined. She didn’t usually do the writing, but once in a while inspiration struck and she just _had_ to turn it into art.

But when she pushed open the glass door to reveal the cozy, cabin-esque inside of the shop, she immediately caught sight of the bright glow once again. Sure enough, sitting in the back of the shop on the worn couch was the angel girl, the light from the fireplace dancing on the shadows of her face just as much as her light halo.

As if in a trance, Juleka bought and paid for the coffee. She’d planned to sit towards the front and watch the people pass by, attempting to ignore the girl’s presence in the back who she just _couldn’t_ talk to even if she was desperate to. She had to admit it, she was just too damn shy and awkward to speak to someone, even if they had something this important in common.

But as she reached for her cup, the girl’s eyes met her own.

Brilliant blue eyes, the color of the sky on a cloudless day, the shade of the ocean while on a boat at sea. That was soon followed by a bright smile, shiny pink lips indicating that she was overjoyed to be making this distant connection.

Juleka took a deep breath.

The girl knew, she had to. She knew that they were one and the same in terms of not fitting in with the crowd around them, and this exchanged gaze was an invitation. The difficult part was done, right? All she had to do was . . . _approach_.

And with tiny steps, one foot in front of the other, she did so. 

“Hi!” the girl exclaimed. She glanced around as if looking for anyone that could be listening, but the only nearby people were the barista and one other patron, but he had headphones in. She then flicked her attention back to Juleka, a knowing expression replacing her previously cheerful one. “So . . .”

“Angel?” Juleka asked, her own shaky tone betraying her false sense of confidence.

The girl nodded. “Demon?”

Juleka nodded as well, letting her hair fall into her face. Suddenly her cheeks felt like fire, indicating the blush that was slowly spreading over them and flushing her face with red. It wasn’t exactly hard to tell why; she was speaking to a _really_ cute girl after all. 

“I’m Rose!” the girl said, holding out her hand. Juleka shook it, noting that the girl’s— _Rose’s_ —hand was still warm from the coffee she’d been holding. “Nice to meet you. We should hang out!” She lowered her voice. “I haven’t met anyone else inhuman since arriving here.”

“It’s just me and my family. Well, besides you.” Juleka told her, mumbling so quietly that she hoped Rose could even hear her. But she hardly had to try to keep her voice down; she’d naturally slipped back into her cycle of being unable to properly speak around others. And the light halo around Rose’s head sending sparkles dancing over her face was more than a little distracting.

Rose’s eyes flicked to the door. “Do you want to go for a walk? The rain stopped.” 

Meeting Rose’s line of sight, Juleka noticed that the area outside had indeed become light and cheery once again. And she _absolutely_ wanted to go on that walk. Any time she could spend with the mysterious angel girl was more than exciting. 

So when Rose reached out for her hand, she didn’t pull away.

___

Rose saw the demon girl nearly every day.

They were so different, exact opposites of each other, but they had so much in common nevertheless. They both loved rock music and fashion and hobbies. And they both had come from a place not of earth, a place beyond what any of the humans that passed them without knowing their true identities. 

“So you’re on a break?” Juleka asked, her voice quiet and still. But Rose could hear her. She always could hear her. Juleka had complained before that she was invisible, that no one tried to see her when she was there, and hearing this shattered Rose’s heart. It wasn’t hard to take notice of the goth girl, and when she spoke, all her words were so sweet and kind and caring. Rose considered herself lucky to be one of the few Juleka was willing to open up to.

“Yeah! I was always told that humans exist too quickly to bother with them, but that never made me want to see them less. So for a while, I’m living down here, just seeing all I can see. How about you?”

Shrugging, Juleka let her gaze drift from Rose to their surroundings, a patio outside of a small cafe. People passed by in droves, highly unaware of the very strange conversation taking place right beside them. “I’m not exactly a demon, just descended from one. So I’ve been here my whole life. Only Luka—that’s my brother—and my mother know about us being inhuman. Not even my father did.”

“Oh, that must’ve been so hard for you!” Rose cried, placing her hands over her heart to indicate her concern. Being so empathetic could be useful at times, especially when helping out a few of the humans that she found interesting. But listening to Juleka, it just made her heart break even further. 

“Eh. Maybe a bit. It’s not a big deal or anything though.” 

Rather than protest that it _was_ a big deal, Rose changed the topic. This wasn’t intended to be a somber outing. “So you can see my halo, you said? That’s so interesting! I never knew what other inhumans, ones who aren’t angels, could see.”

Juleka nodded. “I can’t see your wings, though.”

“Oh, it’s a glamour! I hide them with my dress.” And she turned, revealing the wing print on the back of her dress that so-cleverly hid the wings that would be more than a little conspicuous. So instead of seeing large white wings twice the size of her body, anyone else would just see a decal on her dress. It was a handy trick, one that she was pleased by since otherwise meant that she probably wouldn’t have gotten to go to Earth.

And then she wouldn’t have met Juleka . . .

Glancing to the side, Juleka swept back her hair, revealing a pair of tiny, mist-like horns. Obviously Rose was the only one who would be able to see them, but still, the gesture was more than sweet. 

“That’s so cool!” Rose exclaimed, brushing Juleka’s hair aside for her and pinning it back with a little clip she had. The goth girl paused in momentary shock, but recovered quickly, taking Rose’s hand in her own gloved one with a soft smile forming on her lips. 

And there they stayed for a while, reveling in each other’s company.

___

There came a day when Juleka didn’t see the angel girl anymore.

Rose had approached her, sobbing into a handkerchief and clutching onto her arms like she didn’t want to let go, ever. When she’d finally composed herself enough to form words, she told Juleka that she’d been called back to the heavenly plane and would be unable to stay in Paris any longer. That this was the last time they might see each other, and she couldn’t do anything about it.

Juleka didn’t cry, not ever since she could remember. But she’d connected with this girl. They’d become something more than just the two inhumans who understood each other in the world. And Rose—gah, she was just beautiful and sweet and everything bright and sunny that had recently entered Juleka’s life. Demons didn’t get happy endings like that, but she’d been hoping to break the rules.

It didn’t seem like that was in the cards for them, though.

___

When Rose first returned to Earth, she didn’t see the demon girl. 

It had been a while, hadn’t it? And Rose didn’t exactly understand how human time worked. It could’ve just been a few minutes since she left, or it could’ve been literal decades. She would’ve been none the wiser either way, which was a fact that, while understandable, hurt her heart like nothing had ever before. 

Juleka had been her first love.

They were friends, true, but she could sense something between them that was more. And as much as they didn’t acknowledge it, both had wanted to continue this bond that permeated all other bonds and gave them a connection that was special and unique. And she really missed seeing Juleka.

Still, it didn’t seem like there was much she could do about that.

But this time on Earth, it was fall once again and she had to attend school. And the school in question was Collège Françoise Dupont, where she’d be surrounded by teenagers that definitely wouldn't be inhuman. Just the thought made the year seem so long and drawn-out already.

Still, Rose kept up her cheery personality when finding her classroom, meeting her teacher, and taking a seat towards the back of the classroom. She set down her bag and started to unpack her things, not even bothering to raise her head when one of her fellow classmates took a seat next to her and placed their own things down.

And then . . .

A soft voice, no more than a whisper in a sea of loud shouts, spoke only one word.

“Rose?”

The angel girl turned, meeting first bright red eyes—eyes she knew all too well, dark hair falling over pale skin. A slight surprised yet pleased smile. And hands with lace gloves that reached for her own, holding on as if she never wanted to let go again.

_“Juleka.”_


	2. Monster Hunter (Marcaniel)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's a little more horror-oriented, but not much. Possible TW for mentioned blood and the whole "vampire burning in daylight" thing (though nothing's that graphic).
> 
> Partially based on a prompt from the AUideas blog, though I did change it quite a bit: https://auideas.tumblr.com/day/2017/08/29/
> 
> It's also partially based on the early chapters of Dracula, where Harker's at the castle. But obviously it deviates.

Coming out of a deep sleep was similar to being brought back to life. It starts in the dark, in a place that doesn’t seem like a dream but it doesn’t seem real either, and after a while, slowly emerging from the depths of the unknown into the light.

Nathaniel rubbed his eyes, sensing that something was _very wrong_ , but he couldn’t place what exactly it was. After his vision cleared, the only thing he could see in the inky blackness of the room was that he was in a bed, an unfamiliar bed that boasted black velvet sheets and dark wood to make up the corners. One window sat on the right, displaying the night sky and the bright, full moon.

Everything came back in a rush.

Preparing for another typical monster hunt. Following the others into the thicket. Being separated from his family. Running into the alpha of the pack of werewolves. Chasing a wolf down and getting lost. Being attacked from behind—

Nathaniel winced. His arm burned like fire.

“You’re awake.”

His sharp intake of breath cut through the following silence. There was no one else in the room a moment ago, was there? This wasn’t his room, so it wasn’t a family member, so what type of person was sitting in a room with such a strange bed in the middle of the night?

A figure leapt down from the window, moving like a clump of darkness. And seconds later, the figure stood over the side of Nathaniel’s bed. He couldn’t make out any features, just an unidentifiable shape. 

Then the figure loomed closer, finally coming into partial view. 

Nathaniel hadn’t known what to expect from a dark figure looming over an unfamiliar bed in the middle of the night. Maybe a werewolf? A strange man that was planning to use him as a ransom? Someone he knew, hopefully, coming to save him? But no, the figure turned out to be a boy about his own age, one with piercing green eyes and hair that fell around his face in a slight wave. His skin was so pale, almost milky white, and he seemed to wear all black minus a red velvet jacket that only hung over his shoulders. 

“W-Who are you?” Nathaniel asked, unable to mask the desperation in his voice.

The boy ran a gentle hand over Nathaniel’s injured arm, partially hidden by the blanket. It would’ve likely been alarming in a normal situation, but as cold as his hand was, the gesture was a little calming. “I saw the fight between you and the wolfmen and you were going to die, so I got you away from the situation. But you’ve been asleep for a long time. I began to worry that maybe I didn't save you in time.”

The utter horror of the situation hit Nathaniel like a brick. 

“Did I—did I get bit?”

The boy’s expression shifted, first to uncertainty then to realization, his light pink lips slightly parted. “Oh no, the wolfmen did not bite. You do have a gash, though. I did my best to bandage and clean out the wound, though admittedly my medical services aren’t great.”

Then the smallest pinprick of suspicion began to form, the one that warned Nathaniel about the fact that he was inside a stranger’s house and listening to said stranger. He didn't know this person, nor did he know what the person expected of him. “Why did you help me? You know about the werewolves?”

The boy laughed, a sweet laugh that seemed to envelop him. “The wolfmen and I are kin, in some regards anyway. However, I don’t agree with attacking a teenager that is defenseless and unable to escape. So yes, I saved your life.” He seemed to sense the question forming on Nathaniel’s lips before it was even spoken. “I’m a creature that I believe is in your mythology—the blood-drinker?”

_“Vampire.”_

Time stood still. Nathaniel closed his eyes, letting the soft air wash over his face as he waited for the creature in front of him to kill him, to slide its fangs into his neck and take the rest of his life force until he was gone. His family had warned him time and time again of the vampires, the reclusive creatures who lived in seemingly-fancy buildings and lured you in with promises of safety, only to murder you for your blood. This creature was no different, it was a _monster—_

“I’m not going to kill you.”

Slightly embarrassed at the thought of the creature correctly guessing his worry, Nathaniel opened his eyes once again and forced himself into a sitting position so he could look the creature dead in the eye. It wasn’t easy with his injury, but in his mind he was far less vulnerable like this. It had to be only a matter of time before the creature realized who exactly Nathaniel was—a member of a notable monster hunting family. One that hated the vampires, among other creatures, and had hunted them down for generations. And then Nathaniel would get killed anyway.

“I actually just wanted to save you. I won’t do anything, I promise.” He stuck out a hand. “My name’s Marc Anciel.”

Slightly puzzled, Nathaniel shook his hand with the arm that wasn’t injured and relaxed back onto the bed. As dangerous as this situation was, why would someone that was about to kill him tell him their name? And his name was just so . . . _normal._ Didn’t most vampires live in old castles and have names like Damian or Vlad? The thought of a vampire named Marc being deadly seemed almost humorous, not that he was in any position to be laughing.

No, he had to remember that as kind as the creature seemed, it was a vampire dead set on killing and hurting, and he shouldn't trust it in any way.

“I’m Nathaniel.”

“Yeah, Nathaniel _Kurtzberg_ , I know.” Marc covered his mouth, hiding a laugh at Nathaniel’s sudden shock that was apparently written all over his face. “You had it on an ID that fell out of your pocket. I picked it up, don't worry.”

“Do you know what my name means?” Nathaniel sputtered, clutching his blankets closer. He began to gasp for breath, attempting to keep his gaze focused solely on the creature, though how safe that was could be debatable. Before he could stop himself, he blurted, “M-my parents are monster hunters! My family _hates_ your species!”

Marc shrugged, leaning over Nathaniel more to the point where his red jacket brushed against his face. “I don’t care about that. I only care that a teenager isn’t mauled to death by creatures who ought to know better. Would you like to stand up?”

Without answering, Nathaniel reached out his hand. He still couldn't fully relinquish his trust, but the vampire seemed so human, it was fairly easy to slip into the mentality of speaking with another person, not a member of the species that his family was intended to hunt down and kill. His parents would kill him if they ever found out how calm he was in his situation.

Marc took his hand, his gloved hand like ice and his grip surprisingly strong. He wrapped his other arm around Nathaniel’s chest to stabilize him in an obvious gesture of kindness, but either way, Nathaniel could sense his heart rate picking up and his cheeks growing hot. Desperately trying to ignore the way his face was on fire, he moved closer to Marc's arm, making it easier for the vampire to help him out of the bed. In seconds, Marc brought Nathaniel to a sitting position, then to his feet. Now that Nathaniel could see himself, he winced at his blood-stained jeans and t-shirt. He couldn’t possibly imagine how messed-up his face must’ve been, how dark the circles under his eyes must've become.

“You’ll want a change of clothes.” Marc mused, not really to anyone in particular. “I’m sorry, I don’t really have the type of clothes that you’d like, I think. Mostly Victorian-styled pieces.” 

“Anything is great.” Nathaniel told him gratefully, realizing a little too late that he still was holding onto Marc’s hand with a grip that had to be too tight to be comfortable. Why was he still holding his hand . . . why did he not want to let go? He _had_ to let go! His family hunted these things, he shouldn’t be letting one take care of him like this! If they found out, he’d be immediately exiled. Not to mention, weren't these creatures evil? Shouldn't he hate being so close to one? But he just . . . _couldn't_.

He attempted to drop his grip, but before he could stabilize himself, his head spun and eyes blurred with the sudden feeling of weightlessness. And then they were holding hands once again, Marc yanking him back to his feet while shouting something—what was he saying? Nathaniel’s hearing had faded to the point where any sound around him was muffled.

_“Nathaniel!”_

And that pulled him back.

“I’m okay, I’m fine.” Nathaniel blinked the last of the blurry vision away as he grounded himself to both Marc’s grip and the tiled floor. “Just dizzy. A change of clothes would be nice, thank you.”

“And something to eat, I’m sure. You’ve been asleep for days.”

“If you have something . . .” Nathaniel hesitated. “I’ve heard your species doesn’t eat.”

“We don’t. But I can get you something.” Marc cast a slight smile over towards his current companion. And when Nathaniel met his eyes—his electric, piercing eyes—he could pinpoint the minute his heart dropped in his chest, the moment his knees turned to jelly. 

But he wasn’t afraid.

_Why wasn’t he afraid?_

* * *

Hours turned into days and days turned into weeks, which passed by like nothing at all. Not that the passing of time was evident through the covered windows of the mansion that Marc apparently lived in. Yes, lived in, not owned. As was explaining one night during their very one-sided dinner, the previous owner was found dead, killed by other vampires, and his mansion was looted. But the building itself stayed open for use, so when Marc found it, not too long after he’d been turned, he just stayed there. It wasn’t too far from town, and the forest animals provided a good supply of blood so that he wouldn’t have to hurt anyone.

“I remember what it’s like to be human.” Marc explained, watching Nathaniel eat the shepherd’s pie that he’d gotten from town (Bought? Stole? Nathaniel really didn’t want to know) with rapt attention. “Just as well as I remember the monster that attacked me. And I don’t want to become the latter.”

“I don’t think you are.”

Because as scared as Nathaniel had been at first, as much as he wanted to hate being near a creature from such a murderous species, those negative emotions had washed away like rain on a roof, leaving some other strange feeling behind that he neither wanted to identity or experience. Marc was the opposite of frightening; he lent any of his clothes that fit, he made sure the food he provided was kosher, and he didn’t intrude into Nathaniel’s private life of being a member of a monster-hunting family. He mostly kept to himself, actually, writing something on spare sheets of parchment in a room not unlike an office. Nathaniel didn’t even know when he did his feeding, as it was never broadcasted.

Nathaniel’s arm had healed surprisingly quickly, and they both knew it. Well, he wasn’t positive Marc knew, but it seemed likely since he’d stopped asking about bandages and alcohol to clean out the wound. So now there was really no reason for Nathaniel to stay. He should’ve been getting home, should’ve been finding his family who were probably worried sick—

But he couldn’t leave. He didn’t want to.

_Why?_

That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Why did he refuse to leave a place where a creature that was known to be an enemy of their family lived? Why did he let that very same creature take care of him? He didn’t even need it any longer since he had use of his arm again. 

They weren’t supposed to interact. Monster hunters never should coexist with vampires. 

And yet . . .

And yet every time Nathaniel spoke with Marc, his life got a little brighter. The dreary repetition of waking up to school and then patrol the forest for any lone monsters was gone. Marc had many interesting stories to tell, both real and fiction, and Nathaniel always found himself captivated by the other boy. Everything about him was breathtaking, from his silky hair to his bright eyes, and yes, even his kind smile with the very tips of his fangs visible. Nathaniel adored him, he _loved_ him.

Wait.

Oh . . .

_Oh no._

That’s why he wanted to stay here for so long.

But he wasn’t supposed to . . . 

A monster hunter and a vampire couldn’t be together, not like that!

And Marc . . . 

But still, even though he just _knew_ his feelings would never be reciprocated . . . 

He never wanted to leave.

* * *

When the opportunity to leave was given, it wasn’t so much a choice as it was an order.

One moment, Nathaniel was in a deep slumber, clutching his blanket in his hands and dreaming. Then next, he heard shattering, screaming, and the scent of something burning.

_Burning flesh . . ._

He leapt from his bed and raced to the room he knew Marc slept in, the source of the commotion. Throwing open the doors, he first noted the window being completely broken into shards of glass on the floor, daylight streaming through the room. And then Marc . . . writhing in pain in bed, the scent of searing flesh obviously coming from his now-burnt exposed skin. 

As quickly as he could, Nathaniel ripped the blanket from the end of Marc’s bed and threw it over the other boy, making sure that he was entirely protected from the sun’s rays. When the screaming turned into a muffled whimper, Nathaniel’s next step was to go to the window to look for the cause of the vandalism.

Of course. Members of one of the rival monster hunting families, the Bourgeois family, stood on the grassy ground far below. Some held bricks in their hands, obviously meant for breaking the glass. They were trying to do this. They were trying to kill any monster they thought would possibly live there. And they almost succeeded.

“What the hell?” Nathaniel cried, gritting his teeth.

“Ah, a Kurtzberg! Sorry, we’re just doing our routine monster check. You know how they like to hide out in these old buildings. Thought we got one of them.”

“Yeah, well this is my house! Good thing I have insurance, or else you’d be dead. Seriously, you hit my, uh, _friend_ with a brick! Do you have any idea how bad of a choice that was?” he finished, hoping that the anger was enough to drive them away. And it seemed to work, as they mumbled amongst themselves before making their way back through the trees.

Now all he had left to take care of was Marc.

_Marc._

He wasn’t dead, _he_ _couldn’t be_.

Nathaniel threw another blanket over the unused curtain rod, blocking out most of the sunlight. Marc’s bed was completely enshrouded in darkness, thank goodness. So now he could lift the blanket and assess how bad the damage was.

It didn’t look good. Marc was completely unconscious, his face charred. Nathaniel almost tried to check for a heartbeat before remembering that duh, Marc wouldn’t have one, so instead he opted to say the vampire’s name, combined with shaking his uninjured arm slightly. Then finally, _finally_ , his bright green eyes fluttered open and met Nathaniel’s aqua ones.

“N-Nath—?”

“It’s okay, you’re going to be okay.” And he hoped he was correct. He knew a hundred different ways to kill a vampire, but none to heal one. But even so, this was absolutely not the best place for Marc to stay, not with a blanket being the only barrier between him and the sky. “Can you get up? I’ll walk you to my room, it’s a lot darker there.”

Carefully, he helped Marc to his feet, not failing to notice the injuries all over Marc’s arms and legs and neck, burns that didn’t look like they would go away anytime soon. He also didn’t fail to notice the similarities between this situation and the one where Nathaniel himself had been injured. That was fine. It was only fair he paid him back for being so kind and helpful. They walked to Nathaniel’s room, slowly and steadily, and when they finally arrived, he helped Marc into a lying position in the bed Nathaniel had been sleeping in.

“S’alright.” Marc mumbled. “I just need—just a few minutes.”

And with that, he fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

Marc woke up hours later, and he woke up so slowly that Nathaniel hardly saw it at first. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact that Marc said his name, ever so softly, he would never have noticed. He’d spent the last several hours drawing on some scrap paper he had, and as much as he tried to draw other things, it all came out as Marc. 

_It wasn’t a vampire power to take over someone’s brain, right? To occupy all of their thoughts?_

“Are you okay?” Nathaniel asked. “Dumb question, sorry.”

Marc nodded, his head hardly moving. “Getting there. Sorry this is happening; I was supposed to be the one helping you heal, not the other way around.”

“Don’t worry, I don’t mind.” Nathaniel carefully glanced at the vampire’s injuries, but then he noticed something a lot worse than a couple charred marks. His skin had gone pure white, the color of paper, and both his eyes and lips had taken on an inky black tinge. “Uh, not to upset you any more, but . . . is it normal for your eyes to be black?”

Marc froze, eyes widening now. “Uhh . . . that’s not good.”

“What? What is it?”

“It means I need blood. But I don’t have any in my storage.”

Nathaniel took a deep breath, knowing exactly what the next option was. Marc wouldn’t like it, he knew that, and honestly the idea wasn’t exactly pleasing to Nathaniel either, but he had to do it. To save _Marc_. He hadn’t asked to get involved in any of this, and he deserved to live if nothing else.

“Then take some of mine.”

“Nathaniel, no—”

“I’m serious. You’re going to die if you don’t get any, right? _I don’t want you to die, Marc!_ ” His voice rose in volume, in octave. “I really care about you! No one’s ever been as kind to me as you have, and I honestly feel responsible for monster hunters attacking since I’m related to some. So please do this, if not for you then for me.” Marc looked more and more deathly by the moment, like a corpse that had been left out to rot. And Nathaniel couldn't bear the sight of someone he loved looking like this.

Marc thought this over for a moment, his lips growing increasingly dark as he waited. It was all Nathaniel could do not to scream at the hesitation. Finally, he said, “Fine. But please, never have me do this again. I don’t want to show you this side of me, Nathaniel.”

“Where would be the best place to do it? My neck?”

“Just your arm is fine, and would probably hurt less.” 

Immediately, Nathaniel held out his arm towards the bed. It would be like a vaccine, right? Not too bad? Marc cast one last sorrowful look in the other’s direction before running his cold fingers over Nathaniel’s wrist. The artist shivered at the touch.

He closed his eyes and then . . .

And then he could sense the other bite down and drink, more painful than he had imagined it to be. He could feel the blood draining from his body. But he didn’t make a sound, even if it meant he had to bite his tongue to keep from crying out. Because this was for Marc, not for himself.

When the grip on his arm released, he turned back to see if Marc appeared any better. And seeing him look as he usually did nearly brought Nathaniel to tears—bright dazzling green eyes, skin a more lifelike color, soft pink lips—he looked so beautiful.

“Thank you so much.” Marc said enthusiastically, his voice much brighter and full of life than it had been moments ago. “No one else has ever been willing to do that for me. I would never let anyone, of course, but still . . .”

“Oh, yeah!” Nathaniel grinned sheepishly, attempting to hide his sudden realization. “No problem! I didn’t want you to _die,_ after all!” _Because I love you._

Marc froze, his previous expression remaining in place. “You what?”

Nathaniel bit his lip, realizing all at once that he’d spoken his thoughts aloud. How could he have been so stupid? How could he have revealed his emotions like that all at once? This was never going to work, there was never an option for the two of them to work, and Marc would of course reject his feelings as there was no basis to a relationship like that! If fact, he’d be lucky if he didn’t get kicked out of the mansion because of that.

“Well . . .”

Nathaniel braced himself, awaiting his judgement.

“That’s good, because I’ve felt the same, for a while actually.”

_He . . . what?_

A sigh of sweet relief, accompanied by Marc reaching up, pressing his icy hand against Nathaniel’s cheek, which had become quite red from the silent panicking he’d been doing. Marc, Marc was here and he was alive and smiling and had the same feelings that had been accompanying Nathaniel’s thoughts since the day he arrived. And it was okay, everything was okay. 

Nathaniel took Marc’s hand from his face and brushed his lips against the back of it, ignoring the searing cold. That didn’t matter. Nothing else mattered besides the smile that lit up Marc’s undead face when the two touched. 

“I want to stay with you.” Nathaniel whispered, his light voice breaking the silence of the room.

Marc nodded solemnly. “I want you to stay with me. But the hunters—they found me. What if your family comes by? They won’t approve of this—of us. They hunt my kind. What would they do to you if they found out? I know you didn't trust me at first, so I can't imagine how your family would react.”

And that thought had crossed Nathaniel’s mind. They were certainly star-crossed lovers, destined to be apart by the way that life worked. One a hunter and the other the hunted. But he deemed those boundaries arbitrary the moment that the both of them put their labels aside and formed their own bond, a special one. So his family could find their location. And they’d run. He would protect Marc with anything he could. And he knew— _just knew_ —that vice versa was true.

“I don’t care about them.”

“Oh? But, they’re your family—”

Nathaniel took his opportunity to kiss the back of Marc’s singed hand once again. Someday he hoped they would kiss for real, that he’d taste the lipstick that Marc wore every day and hold onto him tightly, but for now this was good enough. This was their unspoken promise that formed an invisible bond, the bond which had been building up so long, only to erupt like this all at once. 

“But I care about you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sister has informed me that the basic idea of this is sort of like the plot of Hotel Transylvania 3, so might as well get that out of the way lmao


End file.
